Forgotten but Unforgiven
by VSSAKJ
Summary: -DISCONTINUED- A collection of Tales of Symphonia drabbles. Most likely to be Kratos-centric, introspective, and full of spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N: Inspired by the line 'Life is Inevitable and Death Goes On'.__)_

He'd lost count of the number of years, before he'd found Lloyd again. The number of years since he'd lost them both, and the number of years since Mithos changed and Yggdrasill erupted, and the number of years since he could remember where and when he was born, and the number of years since he'd been human. The odd thing about time was that it stretched out to either side of his present, a vast infinity winking out of sight in either direction; he did not know the future, and he could not remember the past.

But Lloyd, Lloyd Lloyd _Lloyd_ was a finite moment, a set period of time, a firm, real seventeen-year-old boy that he had fathered. Lloyd was a reality and yet a surreality that had changed his world and then changed it again, and Lloyd was part of the lives (and deaths) he left behind.

The line of time stretched on.


	2. Chapter 2

_(A/N: Inspired by the quote 'Change your thoughts and you change the world' by Norman Vincent Peale.__)_

This world changes us.

You were different when you were younger. All of us were, really, before and after you – not one of us could have predicted this future. No one knew things would turn as they did.

The future cannot be predicted, but there will be change. We can strive for it to be positive, but there will always be negativity to combat, be it our own or that in the world. The world's neither positive nor negative, in reality, but those who occupy it influence it just as it influences them.

You were different when you were young.


	3. Chapter 3

_(A/N: Inspired by the line 'blades don't need reloading'. I do not ship this.__)_

They spent hours at it, at Kratos's (Lord Yggdrasill's) insistence. Cold steel clashed and rang as two men blurred almost beyond seeing, attacking one another with a ferocity that seemed dangerous to anyone watching. It was, in fact, highly controlled and well-managed; they danced almost an identical pattern to the previous round, and to the one preceeding that, and to all the skirmishes they'd had in the past month.

Then Zelos stepped in when he should have stepped out, and immediately Kratos's blade was at his throat, the battle suddenly frozen. As the younger an blinked a thin rivulet of sweat out of his eye, he said carefully, "Yield."

Kratos withdrew, lowering his sword and looking away.

Zelos ran a hand through his hair, drawing it away from his face, and asked, "Are we finished now?"

Kratos looked over him; Zelos's posture was slumped forward slightly, and he was breathing heavily, and his knuckles were white. The older man frowned to himself and sheathed his own sword, replying, "Fine."

Zelos threw his blade down onto the grass and sat down heavily next to it, sighing, "Why do we have to do this so much?"

"Lord Yggdrasill commands it."

"That's all you ever say."

"That is the only answer ever required." Kratos's tone grew more firm as he said that, and he was rewarded with another sigh from the young Chosen.

"Fine, old man."

He had no patience for this. Kratos walked away, just some small distance, and drew his sword again, beginning to practice forms with his back to the redhead.

Zelos remained in his seated position for a few moments, glaring sullenly at the ground. He scuffed at it with his toe, listening to Kratos's blade slice through the air, and not for the first time wondered what the angel was thinking. Ever.

Regardless, he didn't care. And he wasn't going to stand for this. With a heavy sigh, he plucked his sword from its fallen position and rounded on the other man.

With a clash of steel on steel the two reengaged, and the dance went on.


	4. Chapter 4

_(A/N: Inspired by the line 'an old friend you just met' and the opening musical riff of Adema's "Planets".__)_

He watches the years go by. He watches as the sister who asked him to watch over her brother dies, dies before she was meant to – dies in his time. He watches as the pupil he was teaching warps his image forward into something unrecognisable, and something that will never match his mind. He watches as the man who loved the sister bitters and withdraws, plotting against that which remains of their ideals.

He watches those ideals contort and strain, tortured and misrepresented until no one is left who knows what they once were, not even himself. He watches as the world changes. He watches the last light in his life extinguish.

He watches Lord Yggdrasill rain down Judgement on his determined son, and wonders how it is that he took so long to meet what had become of such an old friend.


End file.
